


Silent Entry

by jinkazama



Category: Tekken
Genre: Birthday, Finger Sucking, M/M, Power Dynamics, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-15
Updated: 2014-03-15
Packaged: 2018-02-17 09:04:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2304176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jinkazama/pseuds/jinkazama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Jin's birthday, and Lars comes to his room to celebrate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silent Entry

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pirotess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pirotess/gifts).



> Written from the prompt "cake" for pirotess. Not sure this cake looks quite like the picture she gave me, but hopefully it's ok.
> 
> Jin and Lars are interesting to write. Jin as of T6 is so closed off, but yet in SC we see he reacts to Lars really differently; they use first names and they know just how to get at each other. This made me think that they must have been close at one point. Jin isn't Kazuya; he knows what it is to be loved, and so I thought he would always have a need for some sort of emotional fulfilment in his life.

Jin strode into his room, taking off his long black coat as he went through the doors. He went to throw it over a chair, then paused, reminded of his mother’s face when he would throw his clothes over their home. She’d never say anything, but he saw the tight twist of her mouth and crease of her brow when she picked them up. It stayed with him, haunting him through his days, a ghostly presence.  
  
He’d finished hanging his coat up when a shadow in the corner moved. Jin immediately fell into stance, heart beating a little more rapidly than normal. He wasn’t afraid of intruders, he was the King of the Iron Fist, but in his bedroom, he was unaccustomed to being on guard. His bedroom was the one place in the whole of the Mishima Zaibatsu where he felt comfortable. He lived in luxurious apartments at the top of the building. Distasteful as Jin found the idea of claiming his father’s old rooms, the notion of returning to the Mishima Compound was anathema to him.  
  
“Out!” Jin demanded, feeling the dark rage wake inside him. His fists clenched so hard he could feel the claws just under the surface. Was it one of his father’s men, sent to kill him at last?  
  
Instead, Lars stepped out from the corner, and Jin’s anger faded for a moment before he regained his composure.  
  
“What are you doing here? You were specifically ordered to take a few days’ holiday after the Lagos mission,” Jin snapped, in the sharp tone he used to castigate his many unruly subordinates. His eyes examined Lars angrily.  
  
Lars smiled lazily, unthreatened, and took another step closer. “I wanted to see you.”  
  
He was wearing faded grey jeans, so old they were as soft as satin, and a slim-cut white shirt unbuttoned to show his throat. Jin’s eyes narrowed in suspicion as he took in his captain more fully.  
  
“This is completely inappropriate for you to come to my quarters like this.”  
  
Lars’s smile ebbed away. “Yes. About that…I wanted to wish you a happy birthday, and this seemed easier than going to your office. Especially as you’ve been unreachable all day.”  
  
Jin frowned. Yes, deliberately so. He’d never cared much for his birthday since his mother died. Heihachi had showered him in gifts when he turned sixteen, and had spoiled him on every birthday he’d spent in the Compound since then. But those memories had a way of turning sour when the same grandfather demonstrated his generosity with a gunshot to the head, and subsequent multiple attempts on his life.  
  
Since then, he barely acknowledged it. One year older. What did it matter when he’d be dead if his plans paid off anyway?  
  
Still, it had been a trying day and he was in no mood to argue with Lars, of all people.  
  
“Fine.”  
  
“Happy birthday Jin.”  
  
Lars stepped forward and pressed a soft kiss on his mouth. Jin felt the remnants of his anger fading away. He allowed Lars to pull him close with strong arms, to deepen the kiss.  
  
Lars broke away from him, and gestured towards Jin’s bed. “Sit.”  
  
Jin stared at him, openly hostile, and stayed where he was.  
  
“It’s not a command, it’s a suggestion. _Please_?”  
  
Jin sat, and looked up at the older man. “Don’t tell me you have a present.”  
  
Lars smiled at such obvious disdain. “Not quite. Since you go to such lengths to not celebrate or acknowledge your birthday, I figured you wouldn’t want a present. But…there’s cake.”  
  
“Cake.”  
  
“Yes. I made a cake for midsummer. I always do, I miss home most around now. I wanted to bring some to you.”  
  
Jin shook his head slowly. He’d never really cared about food; his mother had been a terrible cook and he’d survived rather than thrived on her cooking. Years of eating her food had killed his tastebuds and it was never something he’d cared to seek out or develop an interest in, not even when he moved to Tokyo. His grandfather was more of a gourmand but the bright tastes and unfamiliar ingredients failed to enthrall Jin and he stuck to plain food that served his needs best and helped him maintain his fitness. No more, no less. Heihachi had been utterly disgusted.  
  
“Even your father and uncle, ungrateful whelps that they were, would never turn down a meal this good.”  
  
Jin had just shrugged, and dug into his bowl of rice and nattou.  
  
Lars had placed a hard plastic container on his desk which he now took in hand and brought over; Jin eyed it incuriously. Opening the lid, Lars handed the container to Jin.  
  
“The crumbs…”  
  
“It’s only a small piece. There won’t be crumbs.” Lars’s sweet smile turned lecherous. “I promise.”  
  
Jin sighed. “Fine.”  
  
Lars had neglected to provide a fork, perhaps deliberately, Jin thought, darkly. He broke off a piece of cake and eyed it. The cake was moist, crumbly, with a thick streak of real cream right through the middle and coating the top. There were slices of fresh strawberry on top.  
  
Jin shoved a large piece whole into his mouth and chewed rapidly. Lars watched.  
  
“Good?”  
  
Jin didn’t say anything; he was too busy digging out a second chunk. Lars’s dark blue eyes lit up and he sat beside Jin, plucking out a sliver of strawberry for himself.  
  
Lars had done well, Jin thought. He hadn’t eaten cake in years, since before his mother died, and Jun would never have made a cake like this for him. Every year on his birthday, though, she’d bring him to a little café near their home on Yakushima, run by the same family for generations, and allowed him to choose any cake he liked from their display.  
  
Jin had always had austere tastes, even then, but he remembered the cakes fondly. His mother would share a piece with him over tea, and after they’d go for a walk in the forest, breathing in the rich cool air that was better than any meal to Jin, saying nothing, content in their shared silence.  
  
They’d been so happy then.  
  
Jin pushed the container away. He’d eaten all he would now, his teeth were beginning to itch and his heart was racing – was it really just the sugar?  
  
Lars sat beside him, he’d obviously seen something that troubled him about Jin’s face. “Jin?”  
  
Jin looked over to him, getting his thoughts under control, smoothing things over.  
  
“Is there something wrong?” Lars asked. He was so direct, Lars, not one to play games or to hint obliquely. Just like –  
  
Jin looked away. He wouldn’t think of _him_. Not here, not now.  
  
“Why did you come here?!” he burst out, angry at Lars seeing him so uncontrolled, so open, so vulnerable. It was deeply inappropriate. Lars was acting strangely and Jin wasn’t ready for it. He didn’t have to be, he realised. _He_ was in control here.  
  
“I wanted to see you,” Lars said, clearly taken aback, but not moving away. Jin glared at him, but Lars stayed put, and Jin realised that he didn’t really want Lars to go. He just didn’t want Lars to see him like this.  
  
“I missed you,” Lars said softly, and Jin didn’t really know what to do with the sentiment. Lars was so normal by comparison, so open. He wasn’t afraid to let Jin in, to say things like that. Lars took up Jin’s hands in his, held them by the palms. Jin’s fingers were coated in cake crumbs, traces of cream, and there was even a delicate pink line of strawberry juice across his thumb.  
  
“Did you miss me?” Lars asked, as he raised Jin’s thumb to his mouth and sucked off the juice.  
  
Jin breathed out.  
  
The Mishima Zaibatsu had cameras all over the world, overt and covert. It was a sideline business that made them a lot of money, started back in his father’s day. Jin often slept poorly and when he did he’d come here, to his room, and look into one of their monitoring stations until he fell asleep. Sometimes he’d follow his enemies but more often he’d just choose a foreign city and watch the rush and flow of  
people going about their mundane lives all over the world until he grew sleepy enough for bed. The Tekken Force carried cameras at eye view on their helmets, and high-ranking officers, like Lars, were chipped so they could be tracked if they went missing or were captured.  
  
It was Lars’s name Jin punched out early one morning, nighttime in Stockholm, and, as the program loaded, he didn’t even know what it’d return. The GPS coordinates appeared onscreen and the accompanying map told Jin it was a public street in Stockholm, and that Lars was moving.  
  
Jin entered the commands for Lars to be tracked by any public cameras nearby, and he sat back. Sure enough, a grey picture appeared onscreen. Jin sat forward eagerly, peering at the screen. A drizzly summer evening in Stockholm. He sat, and he looked, and then he saw him.  
  
Lars had been signed off for a week to visit home; his mother had been unwell. He stood out even in Stockholm, drawing discreet glances from passersby. The drizzle had flattened his sandy brown hair down, darkening it against his pale face, and he drew his leather jacket against him. The display told Jin that it was 24C so it couldn’t have been cold, and Lars was accustomed to fighting his way through  
hellish conditions. His jeans hugged his long, muscular legs tightly, and Jin felt himself grow hard just watching Lars stride confidently to his destination, with all those strangers looking at him. Idly, he unfastened the drawstring of his cashmere pyjamas bottoms and slipped his hand inside.  
  
Onscreen, the picture was wavering as Lars continued to walk away from the city, where there were plenty of cameras, to a more residential area. Jin watched as the picture, shakier and further away, showed Lars stopping in front of a modest apartment building, digging in his pocket for a key. He retrieved it, and undid his jacket to reveal a brightly wrapped present.  
  
Lars opened the door and went inside, vanishing from Jin’s view.  
  
Jin withdrew his hand. The thought of Lars protecting the present so fiercely for his mother made him sad, and he just wasn’t in the mood anymore.  
  
After that he’d gone to Lagos, and Jin hadn’t seen him until now.  
  
“Yes, I missed you,” he managed, as Lars moved on to his index finger. Lars’s mouth was tight and his full lips were soft as he sucked Jin’s finger clean. Jin felt himself harden, and welcomed it.  
  
The back of Lars’s throat flexed around the tip of his middle finger as he looked at Jin steadily, and Jin sighed. He should tell him to go. Instead, he stroked Lars’s jaw gently with his free hand as Lars continued to suck his fingers clean.  
  
Lars removed Jin’s fingers and looked at him silently. Jin needed this badly. He wanted Lars.  
  
“Take off your clothes.”  
  
Lars stood. His fingers were sure; he didn’t fumble or betray any nervousness. He watched Jin as he undid his shirt and slid it from his flawless body. Jin’s eyes hungrily grazed over every inch of skin revealed as Lars pulled his jeans down his thickly muscled thighs and stepped out of them. He placed his clothes carefully over the back of a chair, and looked back at Jin.  
  
Jin beckoned to him, and Lars came over, until he was standing right in front of Jin.  
  
Jin grabbed him and flipped him so he was lying across Jin’s lap. Lars was taller, and larger, but Jin held the edge in strength and he had caught Lars off guard. Lars struggled, but he couldn’t free himself; Jin was just too strong. Not that he was particularly afraid, of course.  
  
Jin held him tight and leaned down to whisper in his ear.  
  
“Now you _know_ why I have you like this – you must be punished for your insolence.”  
  
Lars said nothing, but Jin heard his harsh breathing, and felt Lars rub himself shamelessly against the hard line of Jin’s thigh. Jin eyed Lars’s backside; his cheeks were firm, muscular and inviting to his hand. He felt himself grow harder; in response, Lars stirred against him.  
  
Jin knew he couldn’t hold out long, but there were things he needed to say.  
  
“This is for coming to see me on your day off.”  
  
He brought his hand down sharply; Lars cried out and pressed his erection hard against Jin. Jin needed a moment before the next one. He closed his eyes, sparing himself from the sight of the red marks his hand had left on the smooth skin, and took a deep breath.  
  
“This is for coming to my room without my invitation.”  
  
He relished the little whimper Lars made at that, and pressed his thigh hard against Lars, drawing a barely suppressed moan from the other man.  
  
“This is for hiding in the corner instead of making yourself known immediately.”  
  
His hand cracked hard; the third strike was making the skin bright red and shiny-looking. Lars would have some difficulty sitting comfortably tomorrow, he thought, though it certainly wouldn’t be the first time.  
  
If the spot of precome against his trouser leg was anything to go by, Lars was enjoying himself well enough anyway.  
  
“This is for letting me catch you so easily. Is this what I can expect of the best commander in the Tekken Force?”  
  
At that, Lars started, and renewed his struggles proper.  
  
Jin felt the darkness uncoil and move inside him. _Too much. It was too much_.  
  
He hauled Lars up before it could take over, and into a clumsy sitting position beside him; to his credit Lars didn’t flinch. He was flushed and excited, yet his slate-blue eyes were cool and steady. Jin knew what he wanted.  
  
Jin slid the hand that had gripped Lars tightly to him down and took Lars’s erection in hand; Lars started. The skin was silky and hot with the blood rushing through him; Jin gave a little squeeze. He knew exactly how Lars liked it.  
  
Lars shivered as Jin slid his hand up and down, holding his gaze as he did so. He was close, Jin knew, but he wanted to make Lars come himself, see his captain reduced to utter helplessness, vulnerable and panting because of him. He didn’t know why, but he needed it more than ever.  
  
Jin reached out with his hand and traced his fingertips lightly down Lars’s chest, playing with his nipples as his other hand worked, and Lars’s eyes darkened. He ground his hips forward into Jin’s fingers and Jin smiled and tightened his grip in response. Lars was breathing heavily now. He leaned forward and reached out for Jin; Jin moved closer and pulled Lars to him for a kiss.  
  
His fingers tangled in Lars’s sandy hair as they kissed and Jin smiled into his mouth as he thought of what would come next.  
  
Lars was distracted and Jin recognised the signs. He broke the kiss but held Lars tightly by his hair; Lars looked at him, so close, so vulnerable.  
  
“I want to see your face. Come for me.”  
  
And Lars couldn’t take his eyes off Jin as he did; Jin was only vaguely aware of Lars’s semen spurting across his palm and fingers. All his attention was on Lars’s face as he came, panting and red-faced, and Jin revelled in the raw emotion as Lars gasped out his ecstasy.  
  
Lars sank back on the bed for a moment. Jin watched him for a second, and offered his fingers.  
  
With some effort, Lars pulled himself up, but his tongue was working quickly, cleaning his own semen from Jin’s hand. Jin sighed involuntarily; his own hardness was hot against his thigh and demanding attention. Lars was calm again, always so quick to recover, and Jin knew he’d know what was expected of him.  
  
But he still wanted to get the message across anyway.  
  
When Lars had finished cleaning his hand, Jin parted his muscular thighs and unzipped, taking himself in hand. Lars’s eyes immediately followed, then darted back to Jin’s face. He smiled.  
  
Lars moved over on his knees. He began unbuttoning Jin’s shirt; Jin allowed him to, and watched him as he worked. Lars pressed kisses to his collarbone, his throat, his chest and then began moving downwards.  
  
Lars slid his hands under Jin, and began dragging his trousers off. Jin wore no underwear beneath his clothes, he’d gone straight to work from training and he'd spent the day sequestered away from other people in any case. He allowed Lars to drag the trousers down his legs and off his feet. Lars pulled his socks off gently, and looked up at him. Then he knelt in front of Jin and moved between his muscular  
thighs.  
  
Jin sighed.  
  
The feeling of Lars’s full lips wrapped tight around his cock was incredible. His tongue was even better. Lars knew just how he liked it. _As he should, he’d had plenty of practice._ Jin slid a lazy hand into the brown hair in front of him, more a reminder than a restraint. Lars looked up at him for a second, and Jin felt the look and shivered.  
  
Lars’s tongue worked the underside of his shaft, and Jin felt the head of his cock hitting the soft back of Lars’s throat as Lars expertly worked him. Lars reached up a hand to fondle his balls, and Jin breathed out in a little gasp as he felt himself so close so soon. He hadn’t been paying much attention to himself recently and it had been a few days since his last orgasm, a quick one in the shower, utterly perfunctory and forgotten as soon as it was over. Lars tightened the grip of his mouth around Jin as much as he could manage and placed his free hand against Jin’s thigh to steady himself.  
  
Jin bit his lip, unwilling to cry out too much. Lars must be able to taste the precome, hot and salty on his tongue. He knew Jin so well, what Jin liked. As Lars began pushing his mouth down with greater force, devouring Jin, Jin couldn’t resist. He let a little muffled gasp escape, and Lars tightened his fingers on Jin’s thigh in response.  
  
Jin came with a barely whispered “Lars…” but he saved all his passion for his thrusts into Lars’s mouth. Lars took it like a champion, never wavering, totally calm, and he waited until Jin had stopped coming, had stopped fucking his mouth to break contact and stand.  
  
Jin eyed him as Lars swallowed his semen and looked at him with pride.  
  
“Stay tonight.”  
  
The words were out of Jin’s mouth before he could catch them, but he realised then that was what he wanted. Lars’s face was silent surprise before his expression quickly shifted, and he smiled, all full lips and flashing white teeth. He rarely smiled in his line of work and it was always something of a shock when he did; like the sun coming out from behind a cloud.  
  
Jin pulled back his covers and slid between his sheets. They were newly changed that day; he often slept poorly and had nightmares and would wake with the sweat-slick sheets tangled about him, trapping his legs. They were cool and smooth against his hot skin and he sank into bed gratefully.  
  
Lars looked down at the bed for a moment, as though considering, and then he was climbing in too. Jin had never allowed him to share his bed before, reasoning that it was inappropriate, that he needed space, that he couldn’t risk Lars getting too close. He had realised, though, that he didn’t have much time left. It was time to do things that brought him pleasure, and if anyone had a problem with his captain sharing his quarters, they would answer to Jin personally.  
  
Somehow, Jin didn’t think there would be many objections.  
  
Lars moved, getting comfortable, and then he was shifting across, over to Jin.  
  
He slid a long arm around Jin’s waist and pulled him close; Jin allowed himself to be drawn near to Lars, enjoying the feeling of close contact with the other man. Lars’s pulse, steady again, felt good against his back, and he liked smelling Lars’s skin and feeling his warm breath on his neck.  
  
Not that he would ever admit it.  
  
Lars held him close and Jin felt something approaching a warm peace settle over him. He relaxed and allowed himself to revel in the good feeling.  
  
Lars pressed a brief kiss to the back of his neck, and Jin smiled unseen as he drifted into dreamless sleep.


End file.
